


I'm Well Acquainted with Villains that Live in my Head

by wednesdays__child



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Dark, Graphic Description, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nightmares, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9817010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: Mr. Scratch goes after Aaron Hotchner again. Aaron has had enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda let Karl off the reigns on this one. You have been warned.
> 
> This is kinda Susspencer's fault for showing me the quote that inspired this.
> 
> Unbetaed - sorry. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title and quotes from the song "Closer" by Halsey.
> 
> The demon quote is from Ray LaMontagne.
> 
> Spoilers through Season 12 Episode 1 - The Crimson King

*************

_I'm bigger than my body. I'm colder than this home. I'm meaner than my demons. I'm bigger than these bones.  
And all the kids cried out please stop you're scaring me. I can't help this awful energy. God damned right, you should be scared of me. Who is in control?_

Aaron startled awake. There was someone here, someone in this home. He could hear them, creeping through this place, his space, the hallways, they echoed and groaned. He made sure Spencer was okay, still asleep in their bed. He kissed the chestnut curls before slipping into the hallway to check on his son. Jack was out like a light, unaware of any danger in their home.

He stood at the top of the stairs - did his apartment have stairs? - as he slowly made his way down, creeping quietly toward the living room, hoping not to attract too much attention to himself. He looked around the home, their home - his and Haley's home - waiting for the intruder, the monster, to make himself known.

He came around the corner, slipped into the dining room and waited. He knew he was there, Peter Lewis, sneaking in his house. The man jumped out at him, waiting to attack. He tackled the man, the monster, Scratch, ripping off his gas mask, exposing him to the gas he'd intended to inflict on Aaron. They struggled, fought, and Aaron waited until the gas settled, holding his breath before gasping frantically.

He straddled the body beneath him as Scratch growled and fought, lashing out at him with a knife. Aaron deftly took the blade from the other man's hand and waited, waited until the drug kicked in, until the fight left him.

"You can't move," Aaron whispered, commanding the other man to lay still. "Your body is like lead."

Lewis looked up at him, shock coloring his features. "How did you do it?" he asked, fear shining in his eyes.

Aaron smirked. "You dosed me three times. You've always wore a gas mask. Maybe I've built up an immunity you didn't even know was possible?"

"Fine!" Lewis spat back at him. "Call your team. Have them pick me up. I'll break out of prison again. You can't stop me, Agent Hotchner."

"No," Aaron said, settling his weight down onto the prone body beneath him. "I won't be calling my team. Not yet anyway. You see, there will be an intruder in my home. We will fight and, tragically, he will be dead by the time anyone gets here. Justifiable homicide. That's what it's called when you kill someone who enters your home with the intent to kill you."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" Aaron whispered as he leaned down to whisper in Mr. Scratch's ear. "You see, I've already killed someone who came after me and my own. What makes you think you are any different? Oh, I know. You think I killed Foyet because I had to. I did. I knew that if I left him alive, he would kill Jack, he would hunt down me and my team until he was put down. But what no one else knows is that I _**wanted**_ to kill him. I was so angry, so beyond reason that there was no way to stop once I started. I hit him so hard that I felt his bones break beneath my hands. I felt the blood squish between my fingers where I grabbed his flesh. I watched as the light faded from his eyes but I still didn't stop punching him. I _**wanted**_ him dead and I do not regret it in the least.

"Just like I won't regret killing you now."

Scratch looked up at him, fear in his eyes, real fear, just like Foyet, and Aaron let the knife slide into his belly. One - Lower right quadrant angled away from the midline of the body to avoid the kidney.

"You can't get away with this," Scratch whispered.

"Shhh," Aaron whispered back softly. "Don't talk. You'll need your oxygen."

"I am the demons in your dreams," Lewis growled, trying to intimate him.

Aaron smiled. "Well I looked my demons in the eyes, laid bare my chest, and said 'Do your best, destroy me. You see, I've been to hell and back so many times, I must admit you bore me."

"I'm inside your mind!" Scratch growled. "I know what frightens you!"

"And I am what frightens you," Aaron growled back. Two - Upper right quadrant between rib four and five angled away from the lungs. "The hard part is going to be not passing out from the pain. And I want you awake for all of this. Every last bit."

Suddenly, Aaron tilted his head to the side, studying the body beneath him. "Would you like to see what your scars are going to look like?" Quickly, he pulled the t-shirt over his head, exposing his naked chest to his captive. "Of course, you won't have this one," he pointed to the long surgical scar down the midline of his abdomen. "And I guess none of these will actually scar. You'd have to be alive for that and you'll never make it that long." Three - just beneath the sternum, up and under.

"And I won't leave you with all the wounds," he crooned. "Oh no. I won't stick my dick in you. I don't have that issue, unlike Foyet. He enjoyed that a little too much, if you ask me. But I will show you where his blade went." Four - left inner thigh, making sure to miss the femoral artery.

Scratch struggled a little then. Aaron just chuckled. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just relax. Makes it go in so much easier." Five - right side mid abdomen, angled down to miss the liver.

Aaron sighed softly. "Maybe you really are boring," he said softly, sliding the knife in again. Six - left side outer rib cage between rib nine and ten. "I thought that this would be a lot more fun, you know, the way the George told it. I guess we are just different people." Seven - above the navel, straight in. "Oh! I know!" Eight - above right hipbone, barely scraping bone. "Let's take a page from your playbook." Nine - midline, slightly to the right, missing the spleen.

Aaron moved so he was straddling Scratch's chest, ignoring the blood pooling onto the carpet and the groan from the body beneath him. He leaned over, gripping the monster's chin in his right hand. Slowly, he brought the knife up with the left and slowly began to carve into the skin of his forehead. When the monster began to thrash, Aaron scolded, "Hold still. My penmanship is not the best on a good day. You don't want me to mess this up, do you?"

He worked quickly, steadily, until he was satisfied. He pulled back to study his work. He smiled.

"There," he whispered. "Now there is something of yours on you too. Do you feel better? And don't worry. It'll be easy enough to explain away. You've been obsessed with me, broke into my house. When I caught you, I overpowered you and you accidentally dosed yourself with a near fatal dose of the hallucinogen that you planned to use on me and my family. In the throws of a psychotic break, you carved my name into your forehead and I was forced to subdue you. In the process, the knife found it's way into your body. Nine times might seem a little excessive but people are much more likely to believe an FBI agent over a dead monster."

Lewis looked up at him, his eyes wide, full of fear and lack of humanity that Aaron always knew wasn't there. More monster than man.

"You told DOJ that I laughed, do you remember that?" he asked as he stood. "Would you like to hear that laugh now? Would you?"

The monster shook his head, groaning and panting as his life spilled out on the floor. The same floor where Foyet died. The same floor that Aaron had ended his demon before. This was his killing floor.

"Say my name," he whispered.

Lewis shook his head.

"Say my name," he commanded.

His eyes went wide when Lewis whispered, "Hotch."

He laughed then, hard and harsh. "Say my name," he growled.

"Hotch."

"Say my name!" he shouted.

"Hotch. Hotch. Hotch! HOTCH! AARON! AARON, WAKE UP!!"

Aaron startled awake. He was covered in sweat and tangled in the sheets of the bed, their bed, the one he shared with Spencer. He wasn't in the home he shared with Haley, he was in his apartment, the one he shared with Spencer and Jack, the one that was safe, secure, untainted by his demons.

"Are you back with us now, Aaron?" Spencer asked quietly.

"Us?" he asked.

"Dad?" Jack called from the bedroom doorway. "Are you okay?"

"Jack," Aaron called, holding out his hand. "Yeah, Buddy. I'm okay. Come here."

His son moved close, taking his hand. Aaron pulled the boy down onto the edge of the bed before wrapping his arms around him. "You're scaring me, Dad," the boy admitted, his voice muffled in the older man's chest. "They're getting worse, aren't they?"

"They're just nightmares, Jack."

"No, Dad!" the boy shouted as he pulled away to look at his father. "They aren't just nightmares. You were screaming, laughing! You woke us up, both of us. You're not okay."

Aaron's head fell forward. He was right. Spencer was right. He was not okay.

"You're right. I'm not okay."

"Can I get you anything, Dad?" Jack asked.

"Water," he croaked, his throat rough from shouting.

"Jack-Jack. Do me a favor and make a cup of tea for me and your dad, please?" Spencer asked softly.

"What kind?"

"Sleepytime with peppermint."

"I'll be right back."

Once Jack was out of the room, Aaron near collapsed, falling back into his lover's arms.

"You need to talk, Aaron," Spencer pleaded. "You keep everything inside. You never let anyone in. You lie by omission. You do it all the time. You never talk about your dad or what really happened with Foyet. I heard what you said in your nightmare, Aaron. That's not in any report. And you kept things out of the report about Peter Lewis. You keep it inside and it festers and grows and it has become a monster inside of you. Please don't lock me out anymore."

Aaron shook his head. "Where do I start?"

"The beginning."

"That will take all night."

Spencer leaned over and pulled his phone off the charging station. He quickly dialed. "Rossi. No, it's not a case. I need a favor. Aaron and I need to take a personal day tomorrow. Yeah. Another nightmare. Will you smooth things over with Cruz? Thank you. Yeah, I'll take care of him. Night."

Spencer turned to him then. "We've got all night."

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?" Aaron asked.

"I'm not going to get any sleep tonight. You?"

Aaron shook his head, sighing hard. Just then, Jack walked in with the tea and water. "Here you go."

"Thanks Jack-Jack," Spencer said, taking them from the boy. "Why don't you go back to bed? Your dad and I are going to talk for a while."

"Okay," the boy said, stepping close to the bed. He thrust himself into his father's arms. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Jack."

"Night Spencer."

"Good night, Jack-Jack."

Spencer waited until the door was firmly closed before he sat up and rearranged the pillows against the headboard. Leaning back, he pulled his lover against him. Aaron sighed as his back settled firmly against Spencer's chest and long, lean arms wrapped around his chest, holding him close.

"So..."

"So..."

"You want me to start at the beginning?"

"Yes. I'm here to listen. No judgements, Aaron."

He sighed. This was going to be hard, maybe the hardest thing he'd ever done. But it was time. Time to set the demons free. Time to bring his monsters out into the light. He had to do this. He could do this. He could be meaner than his demons. He would be.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and laid his head back against his lover's shoulder.

"The first time my father beat me, I was seven years old..."

**END**


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